


Forget. Remember. Forget.

by flowercrowncurls



Series: Broken [2]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Centered on Luke, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lost Luke, M/M, Minor Injuries, Past Relationship(s), Sad Luke, Sad Michael, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 02:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4987384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowercrowncurls/pseuds/flowercrowncurls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke's losing a battle he doesn't even know for sure that he actually wants to be a part of anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forget. Remember. Forget.

**Author's Note:**

> Because Dangowoman asked for more, though I'm not really sure this is what they were expecting/wanting, but this is just sort felt like this is the only direction the storyline could really go in for me, especially the characters.

 

Luke likes to remember Michael in the earliest moments of the morning and the latest seconds of the night. He likes to remember blonde haired Michael, from school, before he got those fingers on the rainbow and never looked back. He likes to remember Michael before his skin was stained with ink, swirls and harsh lines and words that mean the world to the boy Luke remembers from what seems like decades ago.

Luke likes to think of the Michael that used to exist within his world, their world before everything sort of spiraled out of control and never stopped. Because time stops for no man - no boy - no child - no one. Time doesn’t stop just so you can catch your breath, it just keeps sprinting forward and if you stop, if you blink, if you pause for even half a second it seems like you’ve slept for a million years. Especially now, with the way their life is, living in technicolor fast forward with blinding lights and screaming teens and endless melodies that repeat over and over, night after night. There’s so much sweat their skin itches with it, and so many sleepless hours the exhaustion never truly fades away, and so many miles between here and there and home that they are barely more than a dot on a map in a place they can’t even pronounce half the time.

Luke sometimes wishes that Michael could still love him, like he did before - back when his smiles came easily and his eyes were bright with life and his laughter was so infectious that Luke's stomach was almost constantly aching. And he wishes he could love Michael as he is now - despite everything that has changed about himself he wishes that was one of the things that hadn't, but it has and he's got no defense against the whims of his own heart. It seems to be impossible, them as a unite beyond the obvious connection of what they now do for a living - less of a dream now and more of a routine that seems more mundane the longer it goes on. And in spite of himself, in spite of everything in his life and how he's currently living, Luke still feels incredibly small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

Luke likes to think of before, literally pre-everything else. Because in his opinion all those befores were where Michael shined the truest. Maybe not the brightest because Michael was born for this world, he was meant for a stage, for bright lights and rippling notes and screams that deafen. But the truest because Michael before their world tipped on its axis was someone that Luke could believe in, trust in, rely on. Now he’s not even sure who Michael is half the time.

“10 Minutes!” is yelled through the half open door and the sound of it startles Luke, sends him sprawling back into reality and miles away from thoughts he can’t really afford to get lost in. There’s no time. There’s never any time, not when they’ve barely got a moment to breathe. He’s overwhelmed with the urge to rant and rave and punch, he’s never wanted to punch something so much in his life before and the urge feels both terrifying and soothing. His stomach rolls.

“Let’s go,” Ashton says at large to the room, slapping his palm over Luke’s thigh and the sting is just sharp enough to rip him the rest of the way out of whatever thoughts were still lingering across the surface of his mind. He shakes his head, eyes locking on Michael who’s across the room shaking his head as Calum tells some story and its contents don’t really matter because Michael always looks fondly annoyed whenever Calum gets lost in the re-telling of some event that may or may not of even happened. It settles something in Luke, because Michael’s eyes are mostly focused, the corner of his mouth pulled up just barely enough to notice and his hands are steady at his sides.

It’s going to be an okay night.

Luke loses himself in the motions as the seconds tick down to nothing, then they are taking the stage and it feels like coming home. Luke gets lost in the beat and melody and lyrics that are so much more than a string of words. He gets lost in the lights and the sounds and the rush of energy he gets. And he forgets. Forgets everything, blind to everything but this very second, this exact moment as it plays out in front of him and he runs, jumps, sings, plays and leaves another little piece of himself splattered across that stage before they go. And when the world goes black, the lights turned off at the end of it all, Luke wishes he could keep on forgetting.

 

Luke can’t look at Michael in the minutes that linger after a show, the hype and euphoria that envelopes the room always feels so suffocating than more times than not Luke slips away from the sweaty six limbed hug and heads towards a small, dark, quiet corner. He needs the moments to put himself back together again, stitch all the pieces into their rightful places before he can face Michael.

Because Michael right after a show, in those follow moments that he’s still rolling on the high are when he’s closest to the truest he’s ever been in the entirety of his life and it breaks Luke, every single time it breaks him into a million pieces when he has to watch all the light slowly start to dim all over again. And it’s like watching Michael die, watching the life leave him over and over and over again. But there’s nothing he can do about it, not anymore.

Luke slams his fist against the concrete wall and the way soft flesh gives has him grimacing, he can feel the break of a finger and he realizes just how stupid he is in that moment. Because not only has this world taken Michael, dead yet still somehow breathing, it’s pulling Luke under too and he can barely even breathe anymore. Luke watches the blood pooling around his knuckles, the way it flows almost too sluggishly to go anywhere, he focuses on it because he doesn't know what else to do. The pain makes everything else irrelevant for a moment, a long lingering moment that he feels like he might not be drowning anymore. But that too slowly starts to fade and go and leave him there gasping and aching and wishing something, anything was different.

Luke smashes his hand into the wall again. And he repeats the cycle until he can't even think anymore.

It’s Ashton that finds him eventually, bloody and teary and lost, but it’s always Ashton that finds him and pulls him back. Luke wonders if there's anymore that pulls Michael back from that edge, he wonders if there's anymore that saves Michael, he wonders if there's anyone that could. Luke gives into the reality of his life, the redundant routine that has become his being and lets Ashton pat and poke and soothe. The lecture is delivered through the softness of his voice, and the tenderness of his fingers and Luke finds himself wishing it was Michael. Always Michael. But it's not, so Luke just sits quietly and takes it.

Luke really just wishes he could forget the Michael of now, this fake Michael that’s somehow slipped by all of them and taken up residence within their once perfectly crafted circle. Sometimes he wishes Michael would just stop, would give in and leave - Those thoughts terrify Luke the most, those dark terrible unforgivable thoughts that seep in from the corners and make themselves a home in the center of everything.

Luke hates everything a little bit more with each passing day. And he dreads the day he’s going to forget how to smile, but he knows it’s coming - he can feel it in the ache of his cheeks and the heaviness of his eye lids.  He thinks he's becoming a bit more like Michael with each passing moment, every day that goes by where this Michael they've now got to live with stands at his side he's becoming this person he doesn't recognize when he looks in the mirror.  He wonders if it's okay. Maybe he can love this Michael if he becomes a different Luke.

But he feels tired.  And he just really wants to forget.


End file.
